


Clean

by subplotter



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 17:36:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3217697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subplotter/pseuds/subplotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy braids Murphy's hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this post](http://jxhn-murphy.tumblr.com/post/108765505229/quick-i-need-a-fic-where-bellamy-braided-murphys). Angst about Murphamy with me over at my [tumblr](http://somebodysmonster.tumblr.com).

Murphy was sitting at the edge of the water, shivering a bit in the cold. He was naked down to the waist, and he’d just washed himself even though it was freezing, which was one of the reasons he often avoided doing so. But there came a point when his hair got so matted that he had to, or he would never be able to untangle it again.

He might have very well reached the end of his rope with his hair though. He sat cross-legged, wetting his hands every so often and manually separating the strands. He should just cut it. But he didn’t know anybody in the camp who was good at that besides Raven and he couldn’t trust that bitch with something sharp near his head and neck.

He had his knife though. And as he sat struggling with his locks, he contemplating cutting it all off. So what if he looked stupid? It wasn’t as if anybody looked good in this camp (except for maybe Bellamy, and Clarke, whose pretty blonde hair was always blonde and pretty). And there was something satisfying about the thought. Maybe it would make him feel better, marring his appearance like that.

After a few more moments, he was ready to do it. He stretched out a long piece and poised the knife against the strands. But just as he was about to (attempt to) slice, footsteps crunched the rocks around the water.

"Murphy." It was Bellamy’s voice. His legs came into view next to Murphy’s sitting form. "You gonna cut your hair off?" he said.

"Yeah," said Murphy, squinting up, a ray of sunlight going over his features. "It’s a pain in the ass."

"I could fix it for you."

"Huh?"

"Just sit still." And Bellamy sat down behind Murphy.

It was a little uncomfortable, having another person in his space, but Murphy felt he had little choice in the matter. Good attention from Bellamy was important for his plan, which pretty much included not being a problem. If he wasn’t a problem, Bellamy and Clarke would protect him.

The fingers against his scalp were unexpected though. He tensed.

"Relax," said Bellamy, with a tone like he was already annoyed.

Murphy attempted.

"I came to talk to you about something," Bellamy continued, his fingers separating strands of Murphy’s hair. It tickled his scalp in a way that definitely wasn’t…unpleasant. Bellamy said, "I’m going with Clarke and some of the others to meet with the Grounders."

Murphy swallowed. Any mention of the Grounders had acid biting at the back of his throat. “You want me to go with you?”

"No. You need to stay here."

Murphy had mixed feelings about that. He wanted to go so he could look out for Bellamy and Clarke, but avoiding the Grounders sounded easier. Safer.

"Okay," he said. "When are you leaving?"

"In about an hour."

"That’s…soon." Murphy turned his head to look over his shoulder at Bellamy, or tried. Bellamy immediately stopped the action, tugging on his hair. _“Ow,”_  said Murphy.

"I told you to sit still."

"What are you doing to me anyway?"

"Making your hair less of a mess."

Murphy rose a bitter brow. But he was still from that moment forward, and he was less cold as his skin air-dried. As Bellamy finished whatever he was doing on the right side, he tilted Murphy’s head down gently, the touches against his scalp going down to the base of his skull.

He made a soft noise. This made him sleepy. But if Bellamy had heard him, he didn’t acknowledge it.

They didn’t speak for a long time. And Bellamy just continued to work with Murphy’s hair, repeating the touches down the center of his head, and on the left side. By the end of it, Murphy was in a half-asleep state, and when the contact was broken, Murphy barely noticed.

"Murphy," said Bellamy softly.

"Hmm?"

"I’m done."

Murphy sat up straighter, pushing on one of his palms. And then he reached back a hand to touch over his hair. Braids. His initial response was a scrunching of his nose, but really, it felt better. He turned his head from side to side. And then he looked at Bellamy over his shoulder.

"Thanks."

"You’re welcome. I should get going." He stood up.

So did Murphy. He slipped the rest of his clothes on. “Okay.”

"Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone. Alright?"

Murphy nodded.

"I’ll be back in a few days." And he turned then, walking from Murphy’s sight. Murphy thought of Grounders and spears and blood, and he worried for him. 


End file.
